


He was mine

by bubbleteaandantlers



Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: M/M, Reddie, Richie is just a heartbroken boy at this point, and he doesn't even know why he's heartbroken anymore, lmao I'm sorry that this is gonna hurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-22 23:08:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20882186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bubbleteaandantlers/pseuds/bubbleteaandantlers
Summary: Something makes Richie get on a train and he bumps into Eddie, bringing back memories he didn't even know he had lost.





	He was mine

I hopped on a train this afternoon, I didn't even know where I was going, I just had this churning feeling in my gut that I needed to be somewhere like something was calling me to this particular destination. Someone would probably be corny enough to call it destiny but I don't believe in that bullshit, shit happens and that's how life goes on, as I have always enjoyed saying to whoever is dumbly rambling on about fate that _it's called the circle of life because it's fucking pointless._ The monologue makes the corner of my lip curl into a small smirk as I sit in a window seat gazing out at the blur of scenery that passes by, the crackling voice coming from the tannoy inaudible as it sounds like the speakers are clogged with years of dust from no one giving a shit about cleaning them out. 

Something about the crackling voice tells me that on this next stop that I had to get off at this upcoming stop, it's like I'm possessed by an unseen force telling me this is the place I needs to be right now, I stand from my seat and brush myself down to make pretend that I have a purpose only it makes me all too aware of how I'm dressed. When did jeans and a t-shirt coupled with a plaid shirt and leather jacket become my everyday go-to outfit choice?  _ Focus Richie you dumbass _ I internally grumbled to myself, not that I even knew what the hell I was supposed to even be focusing on. I rub at my stubbled chin impatiently as the train pulling into the station feels as though it's taking it's sweet fucking time getting there. The jolt of the train finally coming to a stop makes my glasses ride down the bridge of my nose, with a sigh I push them up with the knuckle of my index finger and clamber off the train, my hands stuffing deeply into the pockets of the jacket as I stroll around to the exit, shoulders hunching as I feel like whatever force brought me here is glaring at me, I just wanted to be invisible. 

I can't focus, my head is trying too hard to understand why I'm here, what the heck was making me need to be here anyway? _ Stupid fucking gut feeling bringing me here for no fucking reason._ My monologue consuming me as I'm not even focusing on where my legs are carrying me, it's like I'm in a goddamn trance as I'm walking, there's purpose to every one of my steps but I don't even know what that purpose is, all I'm aware of is the fact I'm in a café. _ How the fuck did I get here is_ the question ringing through my mind. 

There's a man stood before me listing off a very specific order acting as if this coffee is some kind of ceremonial thing that has to be done perfectly and his life will crumble without it, I roll my eyes and order a simple black americano because fuck I need something warm and bitter pumping through my veins so I can get my head in some kind of order to understand what the fuck made me need to be here in the first place. As I walk to the end to collect my coffee I knock the man's shoulder and he glares up at me with a fire burning in his irises only for that to suddenly be extinguished as something that looks like recognition takes over his entire expression.

"Holy shit, trashmouth is that you?" The man blurts out, his eyes looking as if they're blown wide. 

_ Trashmouth…..haven't heard that one in a while _ "fuck me, Eds is that you?"

"Don't call me that" he quickly retorts looking away only to look back again.

"Yeah, whatever. Fuck man, it's been a long time since I last saw your hypochondriac ass" I say without skipping a beat, a sudden strong wave of nausea hits me as I get stuck with the feelings I had for this man when we were 13, this man was my best friend at one point and I'd completely forgotten about his entire existence, as if that slate had aggressively been washed clean leaving behind no trace.

"No shit, you look…." Eddie trails off not knowing what words he wants to conjure together to finish the sentence.

"Like shit? Yeah, I know. You're looking great though Eds, but great news, I married your mom" I retort making sure to get that name he oh so deeply hates in there. That response gains a groan and an eye roll from Eddie just like it always would from when they were younger, it makes a childish grin spread across my lips. The moment gets broken once Eddie is handed his ridiculously specific order for a coffee and he hesitates on the spot looking at me with reluctance in his eyes.

"Hey Chee, I gotta head back to work now but you should write me, I'll keep in touch" Eddie speaks rapidly as he fishes a pen and small notepad from his blazer pocket and jots down his address, he rips the page from his pad and hands it to me, his fingers curling in such a way he won't touch the edges of the page as if they're made from razorblades, all I can do it take it and fold it into my wallet, a ghost of a smile on my lips. 

"For sure Edwardo I'll write to you, don't forget about me again" I retort landing a gentle punch on his shoulder with a light-hearted tone. 

We share a tight hug before he dashes out of the door, watching him leaves makes my gut wrench with realisation as I finally realise shit_. This is the guy my heart has been yearning for, I couldn't even remember who he was but my fucking heart knew this man was the one. All these years I've struggled to be in love with anyone because no one was him. _ I take my coffee in its styrofoam enclosure and nod a thank you towards the barista before making my way out the door and into the nearest store to grab paper and a pen because fuck I need to write this down now. I need to write to him as soon as possible, I need to keep him in my life again even if I know nothing can happen, I couldn't miss that goddamn ring on his finger even if I had wanted to. But I couldn't ask him about it, my heart couldn't take knowing who he has begun building a life with, not yet.

I walk back to the station in another haze, the coffee definitely didn't help me to get my mind where I needed it to be, all the caffeine did was make my mind spit out words at 100 miles an hour as I tried to figure out what the hell I wanted to write to Eddie about. Should I come clean about the feelings for him I'm suddenly flooded with? _ Richie no he's married don't do that._ My subconscious screams but I drown it out because shit, I need to, even if he doesn't reciprocate it at least it's off my chest and I can get closure. 

I flop into the nearest empty seat on the surprisingly empty train and pull down the table attached to the back of the chair before me, my head filled with what I can only describe as the scent of stale vomit from the force I planted myself onto the seat with. I plant the paper in front of me and hold the pen in my hand as I begin scribbling down everything on my mind, it's messy and a draft so at least I can turn it into something intelligible on the spare sheets tucked behind it.

* * *

Hey Eds,

I know you hate being called that so it's only necessary to start a letter with that and irritate you when I have the chance right? 

In all honesty, I'll be impressed if you can read this since my handwriting is chicken scratch on acid. I know I always say it's a heap of bullshit but I think something along the lines of fate made me jump on that train and go into that café today. I must sound like a mad man saying it, but it's true. Seeing you brought back memories I wasn't even aware that I had lost, emotions came to the surface that I'd forgotten I had buried, who the fuck knew you could remember being in love with someone so deeply when you were 13 just by seeing them again? 

Write me back,   
Your trashmouth x

* * *

It's been 3 years since that letter went, Richie finally had moved into his apartment the months had ticked by and the months turned into years and he'd never quite moved in because he was still picking clothes and books out of his suitcase and the boxes piled beside the sofa, it was a stretch to say that it looked lived in because of how bare everything looked. He was lost constantly looking through whatever mail fell through his letterbox even though he didn't know what was supposed to be coming through that door but his heart knew it was something important, the feeling of his heart sinking when it was just bills pouring through becoming commonplace.


End file.
